I sold more furniture on social media today. My poor dogs probably think they’re next.
Last year when I came close to a nervous breakdown because of my addiction to busyness …I redecorated my living room. It was a very confused space. For months I bought pillows and returned them. Random items sat with price tags until I’d had enough and said goodbye. It started off very grey. Very dreary. Very lifeless.
Three months later I finally asked someone to come give me an expert opinion. She picked out a rug. Told me I’m a “very symmetrical person” and left.
She’s right. I like balance. I like everything evened out. I like perfection.
Her interpretation of my style helped give me a clear vision of what I wanted and finished the room a few days later. I’ve never second guessed it. I walk in it to this day. And it makes me feel at home. It’s me.
Ever since I quit drinking I’ve thrown out, revamped, repainted, rearranged, and second-third-fourth guessed my downstairs. Laundry room, office, den. I live in my husband’s childhood home. It was born when yellow oak was all the rage, windows were small and I’m pretty sure no one believed in overhead lighting.
Even tonight..I was told I needed my eyes checked. No. I don’t see in the dark.
I want light. And I don’t just mean the kind that illuminates a room..I want light weight. I want less. I want air.
I want more space on the floor, on the walls and in the closets. I want room to breathe. I want more quiet.
Less noise. Less clutter.
I’ve been off social media for a few months now. I quit cold turkey. Just like the wine. I had to turn off the noise. The distraction. The numbing.
The downstairs is finished. Three rooms in three months.
As I walked upstairs and into the kitchen this morning. I saw more noise. Wall hangings, word signs , knick knacks. Maybe I was trying to distract from the original cabinets that still live here. But the vases were blocking sun light and the signs were no longer necessary. The console was only their to hold glass decor and an empty basket. It had to go. So I posted it on Facebook. Had it sold by noon.
And now I realize there’s nothing left to edit. Every room has been downsized. Every room is brighter. Airy-er.
All this extra space isn’t just in my house. It’s in me. Ive decluttered my head. I’ve learned to be quiet. Be still. Be real. And I don’t want that to end.
I struggle everyday with the right words. I have posts in my mind. I jot down notes of my thoughts. Scribble a draft here and there. But I don’t publish. I don’t dare.
Because I want to be able to write that it’s over. That I quit drinking and I’m cured. That I have all the answers. That my unhealthy thoughts are gone. That I don’t miss drinking. That I don’t care what people think. That I am back with God and a reborn spiritual leader. That I am ready to take charge.
But the truth is. I still have thoughts about drinking. Dreams about drinking. I’m still mourning the loss. I don’t know how to tell someone to quit or quiet the addict inside them. I just know what worked for me. I don’t know if I will never drink again. I just know I haven’t for the last 137 days.
I catch myself thinking awful things about myself. I still find it hard to pray. I still struggle to remember Gods grace. His unconditional love. To remember He’s already accepted me. I don’t have to prove my worth.
I know I’ve got to get back out there. Out of my house. Out of hiding.
I’ve got to tackle the addiction that feeds them all. I’ve got to stop trying to please people and live for approval.
It’s ok if everyone doesn’t agree, doesn’t like you, doesn’t get you. Doesn’t care about you.
Someone told me a few weeks ago that when you get sober, your world shrinks down to just you and your immediate family.
For the first few weeks or maybe even months you just tend to you and the people in your home. It’s like when you bring home a newborn child. Your world shrinks down to just you and that baby and your goal is to keep that baby thriving and figure out your new normal.
And eventually your new shaped world starts to expand. It grows back to its original size. It’s just a different version.
Sobriety is my new baby. And I have to take care of her. I had to shrink down my world to figure out my new normal. And slowly but surely my world is getting a little bit bigger.
This new world looks different. Brighter with a lot more room to breathe.